Perseus
by olympusinc
Summary: Annabeth leaves Percy after a large fight about money. What happens when, nine years later, Annabeth discovers that Percy is now an extremely wealthy rapper? Read to find out. T for violence in later chapters and romance. Future fic.
1. Chapter 1

**In this story, Percy is 24, and Annabeth is 23 and a half. In the beginning, at least. **

Percy POV

It was a cold day, and I felt glum. Why? Annabeth left me. Oh crap, again and again and again…

_Flashback_

"_WHY? PERCY, WE CAN'T MAKE _MONEY _WITHOUT YOU, IDIOT! WE'LL BE DIRT POOR!" Annabeth screamed, throwing a metal pan at me. "A-annabeth, please…just STOP! This isn't about me, or you! Wise Girl--" "YOU KNOW WHAT, STUPID? I'M LEAVING! I HATE YOU ANYWAY! GOODBYE, YOU MORONIC, SEAWEED-BRAINED SON OF POSEIDON!"_

That was how she broke up with me. And let me tell you, life is horrible without my girlfriend---I mean _ex-_girlfriend. She had destroyed my life, literally.

--- Nine Years Later----

Annabeth POV

I strolled down the street on a glum December 17th afternoon, feeling bad as usual. So…let me give you a little heads-up on my life. Exactly nine years ago, I had left Percy. I lived in an apartment across town from Percy and my old apartment, and I missed him terribly. But what if he had moved on? I never went back to him.

I had a small son, the son of Percy and I, though he had no idea. His name was Jason, after the hero, and he was eight and a half years old. I told him all about Greek mythology, and his father, when he was five, and he had his own sword.

That day, Jason was still at winter break camp, and I missed him. So, I decided to take a stroll down Central Park. I passed a magazine stand, and something caught my eye on the cover of the latest _Rolling Stone_. I picked it up, and there, on the front of the magazine, was a picture of Percy holding a guitar and a microphone.

Percy wore a tilted Yankees cap, a light blue Ed Hardy T-Shirt, designer jeans, and bright red Converses. He was smiling at the camera, and the caption read: **PERSEUS: ONE OF THE BIGGEST AMERICAN ARTISTS. HOW HE GOT FAMOUS: FULL ARTICLE ON PAGE 52.**

I quickly flipped to page 52, and a really big picture of Percy was printed on the page, this time wearing a black suit and shaking the President's hand.

The article read: **The world's #4 best-selling artist, Perseus, behind the Beatles, Elvis, and MJ, is just Perseus, a.k.a. Percy Jackson, himself.**

**Eight and a half years ago, in mid-2017, Perseus came out with his debut album, **_**Lost Tears**_**. The controversial album cover showed the rapper's face, tears streaking down his face and a cigarette in his mouth. It rose to #1 instantly, and Perseus became a worldwide phenomenon. **

**His second album, **_**Why The Pretense**_**, released in 2018, featured such prominent artists as Eminem, Rihanna, and Kanye West.**

**By 2020, Perseus had released 5 albums, all reaching #1 for seven weeks or more, and 18 singles, all hits. His net worth, at the time, was $239.4 million. He had won no less than 9 Grammys, and he was the definition of a star.**

**He now is worth over $370 million, and since 2020, has released 4 albums, 31 hit singles, and won 7 Grammys. Percy Jackson currently has residences in Italy, Canada, Brooklyn, Beverly Hills, Paris, London, Miami, Detroit, the Galapagos Islands, and Russia. **

**Rolling Stone: Mr. Jackson, how **_**does **_**it feel to be constantly surrounded by screaming fans, paparazzi, and bodyguards?**

**Percy Jackson: Well, it's pretty damn crazy. I mean . . . I have so little personal time I don't have a girlfriend. Hah, psych! No, but I don't have a girlfriend.**

**RS: Why don't you have a girlfriend?**

**PJ: Yeah…I'm a best friend with a lot of girls, but…a pretty nasty woman left me nine years ago, and I don't really want to talk about it, but…end of topic.**

**RS: Why did you release your first album?**

**PJ: You know, I have to say, I did because I was awfully depressed after the [nasty girl] dumped me. I released my first album out of depression, and I really don't know why people like it. **

I was jarred back to reality when the Latino man who ran the stand said, "Miss? Please buy that."

Oh, what the hell. I bought it, and kept reading on as I learned more of how Percy wrote all the songs about the "nasty girl"-clearly me- and what he'd been doing.

However, I never knew that he was the #2 best-selling solo artist of all time, probably because I'd been living alone for nine years, rarely leaving my apartment other than for work, food, furnishings, movies, stuff, and taking Jason to school, like a little loser.

I felt like I wanted to see him. Maybe I could reach by his old phone. When I got back to my apartment, I dug his number out, and dialed it. A robotic voice picked up.

"Hello, you have reached the telephones of Percy Jackson, more famously known as Perseus, the rapper. If you would like to reach his home phone, accessible by password only, press 1. If you would like to reach his personal phone, accessible by password only, press 2. If you would like to leave a message, press 3. If you would like to reach his public line, press 4. If you would like to reach his business phone, press 5."

I pressed 2, and the voice said, "Type in the password." I tried to think back to when I lived with him…I finally remembered that he always used to use the password _seaweedb&wiseg_.

I typed it into my phone's keyboard, and the voice said, "Access granted." The phone rang and rang, until Percy himself picked up. "Who is this? It says your number is 'Restricted', and the only people who know this password are in my contacts…is this a hacker?"

I squeaked, "No, P-percy." "Who the hell is this? Speak now, or I'm hanging up." "A-annabeth." I could almost see the shock on Percy's face, and I could hear him breathing heavily and almost…crying.

"No, please, tell me this is Pete. Or, or, George. Or Sam, or Marlene, or Sarah, or Rachel? It's isn't April Fools, Rach!"

"N-no, this is Annabeth Chase." "Rachel, I'm hanging up on you if you continue this really, really mean scheme." "Seaweed Brain?"

I heard Percy swear under his breath, and whisper, "What in the name of Zeus are you calling me for?"

I replied, "I, I wanted to say--"

He fumed, "And, just so you know, I'm sorry for saying all those mean things to you nine years ago! But…I suppose you have no interest in pursuing me, after you most recently found out about my fame and fortune…Annabeth!"

I sighed, and said, "Percy Jackson, how did you know I just found out about your…fame?" "I saw you, looking at _Rolling Stone_. I was getting a coffee at Starbucks -my bodyguards had everybody else leave in case of danger- when I saw just a glimpse of you, standing there, I…felt…"

"What? Did the gods do anything?" I inquired Percy. He mumbled, "No, damn it, it's compassion." I pretended not to hear.

"Annabeth…" Percy sighed. "You know, we should be friends again. Just friends. Maybe we could do something for lunch sometime…" A rush of happiness surged through my body, until I realized that he didn't really want me anymore.

"Maybe…we could go to that restaurant by Montauk, if you want. For lunch, today…" "Nah, let's eat at my place. Please?"

"Yeah, Perce, sure." Percy replied, "Alright. I'll have a Maybach come and pick you up in ten minutes. I live on Sutton Place, and see you soon."

As I began to wearily change into the one pretty dress I still owned, a gift from Percy on my 23rd birthday, I realized that I still loved Percy. He may not have loved me back, but I will always love him, Percy Jackson.

Percy POV

I had just gotten myself into a huge predicament. Nine years ago, it probably would have been normal, dinner with Annabeth, my…girlfriend at the time.

I clasped my hands on my desk, in my large third-floor study. I lived in a four-story, eleven-bedroom, 45-guest-house, 23-bathroom estate. I know, it's really, really humongous.

However, my wealth _or _estates didn't mean much to me. I had lived this life for eight years, and all that time I missed her. She, most likely, didn't think twice of going back to me.

I had chased Annabeth for nine years, and I didn't plan on giving up. To interrupt my thoughts, the doorbell rang. How was that so fast?

I looked down at my black Calvin Klein dress pants, my green sweater, my brown loafers…I hoped I looked okay, at least. I slipped Riptide into my pocket and ran down the stairs, opening the door.

Annabeth Chase stood there, one of my chauffeurs holding an umbrella over her head, and she grinned at me, pulling me into a hug.

She walked in, still semi-hugging me, and then I pulled back in a haste to not seem romantic. What, of course I didn't want my ex to know I still loved her, or anything like that!

Annabeth took off her Luis Vuitton sweater, one that I had sent her a couple of years ago from an "anonymous famous dude" as I put it in the Post-It I attached to the $400 sweater.

She was wearing a pretty gray dress that matched her eyes; I had given that to her almost ten years ago for her 23rd birthday. It lit up the room, and all of my staff rushed out of the room so, apparently, "Mr. Jackson" could have some personal time.

I smiled at her as I led her into the dining room, a smile that I hoped said, "_Hey, nice to see you again._" She looked at the picture of her and I at the Parthenon that was propped up in a corner, and I hastily put it away.

"Nice to see you, Percy. I see…you have quite the house." She said as we sat down. "Thank you." "You know, Percy…I have a son." She blurted out. I was surprised at that, and a little hurt, but I replied, "What's his name?" "Jason, Jason Chase."

"Oh. Who's his father?" That inquiry seemed to shock her, and she stuttered, "I-I don't know." "I can tell you're lying." "Yes, I am." "Then who is it?" "Um…I can't tell you."

"Then let's play a game called 20 Questions. Is his dad a demigod?" "Yes." "Hmmm…did he go to camp?" "Yes." "Is he dead?" "No." "Do you know where he lives?" "Yes." "Do you…love him?" "Yes."

Suddenly, it hit me; she loved somebody, somebody that wasn't me. "Alright, is he between the ages of 30 and 35?" "Yes." "Did you leave him?" "Yes."

"I honestly have no idea who it is. Just tell me." "No, I'm sorry." I was starting to get a little angry at whoever it was that was Jason's father.

"Annabeth, is it a son of a major god?" "Yes." "Son of big three?" "Yes." That narrowed it down to Nico, Nico's brother Fred, Thalia's older brother Jake, and….me.

"Is it Jake?" "No." "Is it Nico?" "No." "Fred?" "No, and that's ten questions." "Do I know him?" "Yes." Wait a second…oh gods. It was me. I was the father of her son. She loved me.

What the hell?

A/N: Sorry for the long chapter. I just had to set things up. Anyway, I'll be posting the next chapter by the 21st.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I have not updated in over a month. To people who care, I am so sorry it took me this long to update, and it's going to be Percy's point of view from now on. Oh, and in my story, Poseidon and Percy eat seafood. I was just really busy with school and stuff...so, whatever. Plus, this is the fifth rewrite of the second chapter. So, here goes...**

Neither of us spoke after the indescribably awkward game of "20 Questions." Dinner, caviar, wine, and salmon roe with bread, both from Poseidon, was served a minute later, and we ate in silence.

It was delicious, and, when we were done with lunch, it was nearing 2 p.m. I spoke, finally, to fill the uncomfortable atmosphere that hung over us.

"So, you know, Annabeth..." I took a deep breath; I had wanted to say this, among many other things, to her for a long time. "How's...life?" Out of the corner of my eye, I could see a chef rushing a cigar to me.

She seemed to brighten up, but then her face sank. "Well, it's fine." I realized that she wasn't really up for talking about life with me.

I pursed my lips, and said, "Alright, see you later, Annabeth." Annabeth frowned, and replied, "You mean you want me to leave?"

"No, no, you can stay." "It's fine, I'll go." "You want...to, uh, come to my Christmas party?" "Sure. When is it?" "Christmas Eve, at 5 p.m."

"I'll have to bring Jason, though." "That's fine. See you."

* * *

Over the next seven days, I thought of Annabeth 24/7. I couldn't stop dreaming of things that could never happen.

Finally, it was Christmas Eve. A couple hundred people were scattered around my big living room, and it wasn't even 6 yet. Thirty people were yet to come, including Annabeth. Even Poseidon was there, pretending to be my father "P.O. Jackson."

A nice khaki-colored Mercedes pulled up as I was outside, talking to Eminem, and Annabeth got out with a little jet-black-haired, grey-eyed eight-year-old. _I'm his father..._ He was wearing nice clothes, and Annabeth suddenly whispered something in his ear.

He took a deep breath, and walked up to Eminem and I. "Hi, Mr. Jackson. I'm Jason Chase." "Hi, Jason." The fifty-three-year-old rapper said, "Okay, Percy. See you inside."

Annabeth walked up to me, and said, "Hi, Percy." "Hey. Nice to see you again." She smiled at me, and I smiled back.

We walked in, and ate an early dinner. Ten paparazzi and a cameraman from NBC approached me, asked me about Jason and Annabeth, and I had to say the truth. Apparently, it was broadcasted to the entire U.S., and put on People, National Enquirer...

We partied for a long time, and Jason watched a movie in a guest bedroom. Finally, everybody went home but Annabeth. It was 1 a.m., and Jason was asleep in the bedroom.

She sat me down on one leather couch, and did something that made her seem even more wasted.

She kissed me.


End file.
